


Bad Boy

by soulless_lover



Series: Cluedo Drabbles [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cluedo Drabbles, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Poor Ciel, References to Clue | Cluedo, Riding Crops, Tumblr Prompt, Tutor Sebastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ciel knows the devil knows he’s there. It’s only a matter of time until he comes by and ends the game, so the Earl must make the best of it while he can, and perhaps get in his own licks whilst he’s at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: "Ciel in the dining room with the riding crop."

Ciel knows the devil knows he’s there. It’s only a matter of time until he comes by and ends the game, so the Earl must make the best of it while he can, and perhaps get in his own licks whilst he’s at it.

“Young Master, this is foolish and unbecoming,” Sebastian says, striding purposefully across the parquet. “Your work was exceedingly poor, and you must receive your disciplinary measures with dignity - come now, and it will be over more quickly.”

Ciel crouches further down, peering through the edge of the lace tablecloth, his small hands tightening around the shaft of the riding crop; his palms are already stinging from his failure to recite the morning’s lesson, and he’s in no rush to come out and be smacked again… especially since running off with the crop is likely to earn him an extra blow.

“Young Master!” Sebastian’s tone is sharper, with a more stern edge than before. “Stop this nonsense at once, we’re quite behind schedule already!”

The polished black wingtips click across the floor to stand directly in front of Ciel’s hiding place under the table, and the boy readies himself, the muscles in his legs twitching like compressed springs.

“Young Master, I shall count to three, and then I shall end this childish game myself. If you deign to behave yourself before then, we shall get on with things, and perhaps you shall still have pudding today.”

Ciel grits his teeth; his _tutor_ , taking away dessert? Not bloody likely!

“One,” Sebastian begins, tapping his foot. “Two…”

Ciel bolts out from underneath the dining-room table, pushing a chair aside and hitting Sebastian in the shin with it; he swings his arm wide and catches the devil across the midriff with the crop, knocking a startled ‘oof’ from his surprised tutor’s lungs, and sprints for the door.

Or at least, he makes to sprint, and is immediately caught up by the scruff of his jumper; Sebastian puts a foot up on the seat of the chair he was struck with, puts the flailing Earl over his thigh, snatches the crop from his hand, and wallops the backs of the boy’s bare, kicking legs with it.

Sulking and chastised, Ciel trudges back to the lesson-room, rubbing his stinging thighs and scowling furiously; his disgruntled tutor follows closely behind, lecturing all the while and wanting nothing more than to do it all over again, with less clothing and more beds involved.

 

END.


End file.
